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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29079732">Gesta Vestalis Familia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TeenageFudanshiVN203'>TeenageFudanshiVN203 (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>plot-bunny farming [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore, God of War (Video Games), Norse Religion &amp; Lore, ダンジョンに出会いを求めるのは間違っているだろうか | DanMachi | Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But it is like, Crossover, F/F, F/M, God!Bell, M/M, Millions of years later or smt, More like a fusion tbh, Not that much of a terrible king/father/husband!Odin, OOC!Odin, Post-Apocalypse, References to Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore, References to God of War (Video Games), References to Norse Religion &amp; Lore, References to Rick Riordan's Works, Reincarnated!Bell, VERY OOC!Odin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:40:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29079732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TeenageFudanshiVN203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bell had dreamed of himself as many things. As a hero, an adventurer, a husband, a father... but never had he imagined that one of his dreams would become truth. Looking down at his bloodied hand, one painted in golden ichor, he had the feeling his grandfather might hide more than just his parents' status from him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bell Cranel/Bete Loga, Freya/Odin (God of War), Freyja | Freya/Óðr | Odr (Norse Religion &amp; Lore), Frigg | Frigga/Óðinn | Odin (Norse Religion &amp; Lore)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>plot-bunny farming [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gesta Vestalis Familia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first memory Bell Cranel ever remembered having was that of a dream, one akin to memory.</p><p>It was a dream about the freezing snow and the scorching flame.</p><p>It was a dream about war and destruction, the shadows creeping behind blood-soaked backs and just acts of vengeance.</p><p>It was a dream about the ending and the beginning, a cycle of rebirth.</p><p>It was a dream about the twilight of the gods.</p><p>And that was real… so real…</p><p>It was so real that at some point, he might have mistaken it for the truth.</p><p>But sadly his family didn’t seem to share the same viewpoint. Every time he mentioned it, all colors seemed to drain from his parents’ faces.</p><p>His one-eyed father turned the color of a frozen corpse as if he had just looked death in the eyes. His beautiful mother, one with silver hair akin to the clouds woven in the heavens, became so old in a sudden as if she was remembering centuries of memories she had desperately tried to forget.</p><p>And thus, after the first time, he never mentioned it before his parents again. It was something he regretted.</p><p>After that evening when he had told them about his vivid dream, he never saw them again and grandpa had taken him in, though it seemed that he also didn’t like him going around telling everyone and anyone about his dream. He could still remember how worried and scared his grandpa became when he first heard about it, the light dimmed in his eyes, and his thunderous voice taken away by the unseeable faes. He then asked, ordered, him not to repeat this dream to anyone else.</p><p>Not to the village elders who treated him like a little prince, their eyes humbly gazed toward him with reverence and their voices sang hymns of old.</p><p>Not to the children who he often played with on the meadow covered in mayweed, ones who lovingly stroked his cheeks as his white hair blended in seamlessly the little flowers.</p><p>Not even to the swift-footed sons and daughters of his grandpa, the ones who only visited when he was never around and disappeared almost as fast and mysterious as they arrived.</p><p>And just like what grandpa had asked of him, he had told no one about this dream of his.</p><p>He had performed his promise with his grandpa, and in exchange, his grandpa also fulfilled his requests. From then on, before every time he went to bed, his grandpa would tell him about the stories of heroes and figures of old, tales from a time only remembered by the gods.</p><p>Perhaps it was what his grandpa had planned, because very quickly, this truth he believed in returned back into a dream, and from a dream, it became a vague memory once more.</p><p>And one day, when he was drinking his milky-white beverage, this memory faded away from his mind, locked away in the scent of poppies and the Lethe.</p>
<hr/><p>In the dark of the night, the battle cries of warriors mixed harmoniously with the screeching of monsters, forming a twisted symphony unlike any other, one soaked by blood and carnage.</p><p>Strong men and women, bearing on them intricate armors of silver and brandishing weapons out of metals that could only be found deep beneath in the domain of Gaea. Their determined iron-will - the will to win, to live, to survive - fueled each of their moves, from the smallest slash of a dagger to the mightiest swing of a sword, as they tried to destroy the monstrous horde before them. They couldn’t fail now. They had failed once before and couldn’t afford to fail another time.</p><p>For if this mission of their failed, it would mean…</p><p>“Arcus! We will clear a way for you and Lil’ Bell to escape! Try your best to run to Orario to seek reinforcement from Hermes or Dionysus!” A woman cried, her silver blade stained with the blood of the drakon she had just slain. “We will try our best to escape later on, but for now, save him first!”</p><p>Arcus, formerly known as the golden-winged Iris, the young woman in question, furrowed her brows but didn’t appear to oppose the idea. Her hand held tight to the unconscious child beside her, whose white hair spread out and formed a halo behind his hand, as determination filled her eyes. With a nod, she ran to the nearest horse and jumped on. At the answer, the warrior woman from behind signified the mages behind her to release their spells, wiping out waves of monsters and reducing them into clouds of golden dust. On cue, the black-haired girl ran as fast as the wind into the darkness of the night, leaving the conflict behind.</p><p>“Hey, Vis! Do you think this is the right choice?” The previous warrior’s brother asked him, his gleaming eyes burned with determination and his body filled with divine zeal, “Should we at least send someone to go with the rainbow girl? I don’t think letting a Divine Messenger go alone without any bodyguard a good idea sis.”</p><p>The forceful Bia didn’t particularly care about her brother Zelus’ question at all, her gaze still stuck toward the direction where the two had disappeared into. “No, I’m sure they’ll be fine.” She answered him before returning to her battle, just in time to slice apart a drakon with her gleaming xiphos, “‘Rainbow girl’ is much harder to kill than you expect it y’know. Having been acting as the queen’s bodyguard since the Titanomachy…” Her sword slicing and dicing through countless of drakons and bathed her body with its stinging blood, “… I doubt any ordinary mortal or above-ground monster will be able to defeat her.”</p><p>“Yeah, but she isn’t alone dumbass!” A feminine voice yelled from beside her. As she yelled, the girl threw her golden spear through the head of a cyclops before summoning it back to her hand, “Even without using my Arcanum, I can still see how low the chances for your plan to success Vis!”</p><p>“Shut up, Victoria! No one asks for your dam opinion!” She yelled back, earning only a snicker back from her older sister.</p><p>Out of the three children of Styx, Nike had always been the most mysterious, and that wasn’t a good thing for bodyguards to have. Especially when you were employed by the king of the gods.</p><p>Bia could still vividly remember the number of times they had to escape from Olympus’ ivory halls with their clothes singed with the smell of thunder because Nike’s cryptic talking annoyed Zeus just a bit too much. She couldn’t blame him, she had tried to strange that winged sister of her ever since the day they shoot out of their mother’s womb after all.</p><p>Looking up at the cosmos above, Bia let out a prayer in her mother’s tongue, praying for the High God to have mercy and let Iris and Bell to arrive at Orario safely, before going back into the madness of the battlefield, just in time to decapitate a drakaina in mid-air. Laughters escaped from the goddess’ dainty lips as the frenzy of the battle became more and more intense, mortals and gods alike fighting side by side like how it once was at the beginning of the world.</p><p>However, by the time the battle lust had ended and the gold dust that was once the monsters’ corpses disappeared alongside the first rays of the time, no one was able to remember that they were supposed to be receiving back-up from their allies in Orario anymore.</p>
<hr/><p>“Do you remember what I’ve told you to do Bell?”</p><p>The two of them, one young woman in her early 20s and a young boy barely in his teens, were casually riding toward Orario as if they hadn’t been in a life-or-death situation just a couple of hours ago. From afar, no one who looked at them would of them as anything more than a woman traveling with her little brother, which was just the thing Iris wanted.</p><p>The woman sighed, her oily-black hair flowed gently down her back and reflecting tints of the rainbow as it moved seemingly to its own will, while looking down at the old map in her hand.</p><p>No matter how long she had been in the mortal world, she still hadn’t been familiar with the mortal ways to find ways and directions. No one could blame her though. She had been a Divine Messenger for millennia, delivering private messages for the goddesses of Olympus alongside her somewhat rival Hermes since the beginning of the Olympus dynasty. Flying through the endless blue sky using her golden wings or running through realms and nations by her swift feet, to lower herself and walk among mortals like one of them was sometimes too much for her to bear.</p><p>Sure, she was once the bridge between the gods and mortals. She was the one who sprinkled dews on the leaves after the rosy-fingered Eos had finished her duty. She was the one who delivered the commands of the gods from Mount Olympus to the lower world. But that didn’t mean she would like to <em>live</em> as one of them.</p><p>The only reason she even descended in the first place was that her mistress wanted her retainers to come with her.</p><p>And yet the first thing her mistress commanded her to do in the lower world was to follow Zeus and his followers and his Familia to make sure the old king wouldn’t up to his old trick again.</p><p>So overall, she’d rather be back in Olympus than down here, even if it meant having to do all of her paperwork.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. I remember it.” The white-haired boy yawned, his hands still focused on ripping the pieces of pita she luckily scavaged from the ruins before they escaped, “I get in Orario, joined a Familia affiliated with the Greco-Roman Pantheon, and stay there safely until grandpa or one of his men came and take me back home, right?”</p><p>“That’s the barebone of what I’ve said, but yes.” Her mind couldn’t help but to think of the scene of dread they had escaped from with a feeling of dread, “While you’re there in Orario, I will try and make contact with one of Jove’s private connections in Orario to sent reinforcement back to the camp. When it’s safe to go back home, I will personally come back to get you. Do you understand?”</p><p>“Sure thing Arcus-onee-chan!”</p><p>“Good. Now, if only I can get this damned map to work…”</p>
<hr/><p>They managed to get to Orario in what Bell could only describe as a miracle.</p><p>Though honestly, he suspected Arcus might have something to do with this miracle, seeing how pale she became after she found the way. He had heard some of his tutors whispered that there were certain spells and artifacts that allowed minor gods and daemons to use their powers undetected by other gods. He doubted that these so-called “Artifacts of the Bygone Era” actually existed, but watching Arcus now, he couldn’t help but wonder if these things were real.</p><p>He knew that the gods descended just to seek out entertainment and hated having to return to their work on the heavens, or at least that was what his parents and grandpa had said, so even if Arcus may be a goddess, she wouldn’t do something like that, would she?</p><p>At the city gate, Bell got off the horse and prepared to leave when she reminded him. “Bell, remember what I have said. Lay low as much as possible and stay safe until one of us return.”</p><p>“Sure thing, nee-san. I’ll be safe. I promise you.”</p><p>“Good.” A smile lit up on her face. Her kaleidoscope-like eyes twinkled in the light. “Please be safe. I love you, Bell. Let us meet each other later on.”</p><p>And with that, she rode on her horse back to the direction they came from and her figure disappeared into the woods.</p><p>For a split-second, Bell swore he could see the light wavered and bent around her as she flickered out of his sight like she was nothing more than an illusion.</p><p>“No, perhaps it is just my eyes playing tricks on me again…” He mumbled. Things like this had happened several times before in the past. Strange illusions would appear from thin air whenever he thought of something, anything. Whether those were just his playful ideas of new toys and books or some food he was craving, or just simply people he was thinking about. The light would bend. Things and objects would be born without defined shapes and forms and would break whenever someone that wasn’t him touched them.</p><p>Whenever this happened, he always told his parents and grandpa and got conflicting reactions from the three of them.</p><p>Whereas his father and grandpa seemed to be delighted, though a bit hesitant, they kept on insisting that it was just his imaginations, his mother believed those to be real, just like him. She would then ask him to go inside the house and stay there until she returned, and she didn’t return until much later on when the sun had set and her body smelled of rare herbs and plants and magic so familiar to Bell for unknown reasons.</p><p>Though whenever he asked his mother, she would just smile and tell him to ask his father, and when he did, he was just smiled back and tell him to ask his mother.</p><p>And this became such a confusing circle that he gave up asking much to his parents’ amusement after a couple of days.</p><p>“Well, this is it. The center of the world.” Bell mumbled.</p><p>He had heard people telling stories about this city and the gods and adventurers living within it.</p><p>And now he may be able to live out his dreams and experience and write his own adventure here in the city.</p><p>And with no hesitation, Balderus “Bell” Cranel, son of Othinus and Gefn, clutched his hood and stepped into the city, ready to make his own Familia Myth.</p>
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